No matter how great something is, a pigeon will always come along and sh*t on it.
Despite the smell, the stains and the general unpleasantness, pigeon poo can actually teach us a lot.
The more I chase perfection, the more I’m starting to realise that it really doesn’t exist.
If something is perfect to you, it’s probably equally as imperfect to someone else.
But along with this realisation comes another…
Perhaps imperfection is the thing we should actually be chasing?
Hear me out.
The Beauty Of Imperfection
In his 1997 installation Turisti, Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan placed embalmed pigeons high up in the rafters of an art gallery.
The pigeons were perched above expensive, highly-regarded pieces of art, almost becoming the focal point of the room.
Dirty, disruptive, unwanted pigeons — literally there sh*tting on the concept of high art… how beautiful?
This installation was a reminder of the futility of perfection.
No matter how great you think something is, how much you adore it, you better believe a pigeon will come along and sh*t all over it.
This concept was adored by Italian chef Massimo Bottura, who starred in the very first episode of Chef’s Table.
Turisti inspired Bottura’s love of all things imperfect.
This love was shown most notably in his dish “Oops! I dropped the Lemon Tart”, which came from an actual accident in the kitchen when one of his chef’s dropped a perfectly plated tart.
Instead of throwing it away, he reconstructed the broken pieces into an imperfect masterpiece, and from then on that’s how all his lemon tarts were served.
Examples like this are where the line becomes blurred between imperfection and novelty.
Do we appreciate the actual imperfection in the imperfect thing in itself?
Probably not, we like structure and neatness.
Do we instead appreciate that the imperfect thing is something that’s new and unique?
I think that’s it.
Novelty Is The New Perfection
“Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.”
Pablo Picasso
Things are so good these days that imperfection (novelty) is perhaps the only way to stand out.
Most of the time, artists stand out because their work is unique.
A good artist now could quite easily emulate Picasso or Basquiat, but the reason both of those artists were (and still are) so popular is because they did it first — novelty.
When I first started writing, I would read books and look at the language the authors were using and think to myself, ‘how the hell am I ever going to be that good?’
I had the same feeling when I first got into photography.
I would just look at the photos people were posting on Instagram and think what’s the point of me even starting?
But that’s the trap so many of us fall into.
There is so much incredible stuff out there that it’s impossible to see how our crappy work would be appreciated by others.
But I’d argue this…
I think the good stuff is getting kinda boring.
With AI, ChatGPT, and just a hell of a lot of talented people out there, I feel like good, clean, ‘perfect’ stuff is just… eh.
I miss finding spelling errors in people’s writing (here, I’ll give yoy one right now).
I miss people just taking a crappy disposable film camera on their trip around the world and filling their images with overexposure, light leaks and colour shifts.
And if I miss it, there must be loads of other people out there who miss it too.
The Novelty Is You
“Art is not only about objects and forms, but about ideas and thoughts.”
Maurizio Cattelan
So where does this leave us?
Well, I think that quote above sums it up pretty well.
The ‘novelty’ that you’re going to want to seek is, well… you.
Your ideas and thoughts, what’s going on up there?
You’re probably not reading this article because you think I’m an incredible writer (and if you are then thanks I love you and you should email me compliments).
You’re probably reading this because it feels like I’m having a one-on-one conversation with you.
I’m just drinking my coffee, literally banging on my keyboard as the words into come to my head.
There’s no real planning that goes into this, and it certainly isn’t polished, but that’s what makes the creative process so rewarding, both for yourself and for the person you’re creating for.
The object and form (in this case the article) is one thing, but the ideas and thoughts that the article sparks in someone else (you), or the ideas and thoughts that were sparked inside the creator during creation (me), is another thing entirely.
And yes, a pigeon could come along and sh*t all over my screen right now.
But that little bastard could never sh*t on my thoughts.
And that metaphor that doesn’t really make sense is a perfect way to end this article.
Chase imperfection, my friend, because perfection does not exist, and it never bloody will.
